


Red Eye Flight

by afewmistakesago



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern world, and this cutie wants to knock them down, emma's walls are pretty high up, featuring belle as a roomie, no magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewmistakesago/pseuds/afewmistakesago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern world, no magic. Emma Swan has worked the graveyard shift at the Sea-Tac airport for the last five years. Killian Jones is a frequent flier with a smile that makes her melt. Everything changes on Valentine’s Day, when Killian asks Emma to go out on a date with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter CS fic. I would love to know what you think! There are mentions of a character in a long-term coma.

  
  


It had been four years since Emma Swan picked up the graveyard shift six times a week at the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport at an overpriced food stand called Kwik Eats. The counter sold easy-to-carry foods and was frequented by businessmen who had places to be. It had been three years since He started showing up every almost every Monday and some Wednesdays. For a while, she didn’t know his name, but she knew that every time he looked up from his newspaper, or his coffee, or his phone, her body felt electrocuted to the core.

 

He was gorgeous - the most breathtaking man she’d ever seen. He was always dressed smartly in suits, his hair perfectly ruffled to look just messy enough, but not unprofessional. His eyelashes were so dark and thick, she might’ve thought he wore eyeliner. She liked it the best when his facial hair was scruffy - a few times he’d come in unshaven, and she hadn’t found it as dashing. He - his credit card said his name was Killian D. Jones - came in around 4:30am, an ungodly hour as any. Killian always purchased a breakfast sandwich - though he did once shake up her routine and ordered a bagel. They’d both laugh when she double-taked at his request.

 

It had been two years since she’d officially introduced herself, and he pointed to her bright name tag, saying he already knew her. She shook his credit card in her hand, reading his name off, and she couldn’t help but notice the blush that rose in his cheeks. Emma knew it was ridiculous to think he might like her - she wore a bright yellow top, khakis, and a red hat everyday. It wasn’t exactly the stuff of a man’s wildest fantasies. She was just the person who was always working when he needed breakfast.

 

Killian had never told her what his official job title was, but it had him in and out of the airport on red-eye flights. Emma assumed his job was important, given his fancy clothes and the flashy rings he wore on his fingers. It had been a few weeks since she had last seen him, and she found herself peering around the corner of her little stand to see if he was in sight. She was nearing the end of her shift, and beginning to think he may have found a new breakfast destination. It just so happened to be Valentine’s Day, and she had witnessed at least three teary reunions with balloons and flowers of lovers come together for one special day. Emma hadn’t dated anyone seriously for a while, and didn’t consider herself one for crushes, but she allowed herself one on Killian. It was unlikely it would go anywhere - it was harmless, really. At least, that’s what she told her roommate when she would update her on if he wore the blue tie that really brought out his eyes.

 

Just as Emma began to count her register for the end of her shift, Killian was in front of her. “Emma!” he said, a cheeky grin on his face, “You must’ve thought I moved.”

 

Emma shrugged, keeping focused on her task. Killian took a step closer to her register, “C’mon, love, say you missed me.”

 

She might’ve melted on the spot at the way the nickname floated off his lips. She wanted to reach for him, to feel the rough hairs of his face on her hand. The friction between them drove her nearly mad, and she never had the courage to ask if one of his many rings, was in fact, one of matrimony.

 

Instead of satisfying him with an answer, she pressed the button her register and told him he owed her $4.76. Killian bit his lip, reaching into his pocket and offering her a crumpled five dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he said, taking the sandwich from her and turning like he was going to his gate.

 

“Emma,” he said suddenly, causing her to stop in her tracks, looking up from her register. “What’s a girl as beautiful as you doing working here on Valentine’s Day?” he asked, his voice taking on a tone she didn’t recognize, a note lower than his normal. It was almost - flirtatious.

 

The cynic in her mind had an answer. “Well, when you have a baby at eighteen and you have to give it up for adoption, life doesn’t exactly get better from there. This is a steady job until being a bail bonds person could get more consistent. And Valentine’s Day is ridiculous and commercialized.”

 

Instead, she just smiled. “Airport doesn’t stop for holidays, sir.”

 

“Call me Killian, love, please. We’re closer than that,” he said, taking a step back up to the counter. “Let’s say, I’m going to be back on Wednesday morning. And let’s say I was wondering what you were doing Wednesday night.”

 

Emma froze. She must’ve misheard him.

 

“Wednesday the 16th?” she squeaked.

 

Killian nodded, checking his watch. “Listen, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back then. If you want.”

 

She nodded silently, and he gave her half a wave as he sped walk towards a gate at the end of the hallway. Emma let out a deep breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. Killian D. Jones had just asked her out. Maybe. Maybe he just had questions about airport security. Emma finally finished counting her register, signing off on her report for the midnight to seven AM sales. When the girl who worked the real morning showed up, she headed to security to leave.

 

The TSA agent, a particularly charming gentlemen named Graham, waved Emma through. “Got a date tonight, Swan?” he asked. “You’re bouncing when you walk. Showing emotion. It’s unlike you.”

 

“Shut up,” she muttered, biting her lip. Was it really that obvious that something - someone - had just made her happy?

 

“Fine, keep it to yourself. Happy Valentine’s Day, Emma,” he called after her as she headed for her car.

 

-

 

Emma got back to her apartment at the same time her roommate’s boyfriend was leaving. “School starts soon, doesn’t it, Mr. Gold?” she asked, checking an imaginary watch as he nodded a greeting to her. The older man smirked. “I’ll be on time, Emma, don’t you worry.”

 

“Alright, Mr. Gold, if you say so.”

 

“If I don’t see you later, happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, and Emma nodded, entering her apartment. Her roommate, Belle, was sitting at their kitchen counter, nursing a coffee that had far too much sugar and cream.

 

“Did he really surprise you on Valentine’s morning? What time did he get here? Did he bring flowers this time, too?” Emma asked, and Belle blushed, shrugging.

 

“Hush, Emma,” she said contently, smiling into her drink. Emma spotted the dozen roses in a vase on their coffee table and rolled her eyes.

 

Belle and Emma had met five years ago, when Emma was working at a gas station. Belle had rushed in, locking eyes with Emma and darting for the counter. Emma’s hand hovered over the phone, ready to call 911 if this woman was crazy. She had been crazy - crazy scared. “Can I come behind the counter?” she whispered, standing in front of Emma’s register. “My boyfri- my ex-boyfriend - he’s following me,” she explained, nervously looking over her shoulder.

 

“Oh! Oh, yeah, of course,” Emma said, moving quickly to open the door that separated her from the store and letting the brunette - who she now noticed was barefoot - behind the counter. The woman practically darted in, sliding against the wall, out of view of any customers. She was breathing heavily, and Emma offered her a bottled water she hadn’t opened yet.

 

The door jingled, and the woman froze. Emma kept her calm, watching as a tall, unpleasant looking man entered. “Hello,” he called, stepping up to the register with a grin. “Did a young woman come in here? Brunette? Blue eyes? Australian?”

 

Emma shook her head, offering a sympathetic smile. “Nobody’s been in this afternoon but you and I, sir.”

 

He shook his head, sighing heavily. “If she comes in…. tell her I’ll be at our apartment, waiting for her.”

 

“Will do, sir,” Emma replied, smiling pleasantly until he exited. She squatted down next to the woman, who was shaking now, crying. Emma had never been good with displays of emotion, but she reached her hand out and patted the woman’s shoulder. The brunette looked up, sniffling.

 

“That was him. Gordon Masters. He’s - he’s terrible,” she said, “And I’m Belle,” she continued, offering a trembling hand for Emma to shake.

 

“Emma. You’re safe here, for however long you need to be.”

 

“Thank you, Emma,” Belle said, and Emma saw the sincerity in her statement evident in her face. Belle stayed on the floor for the duration of the afternoon, offering bits of her story to Emma as the day went on.

 

“We’d been together for a year when he - he hit me,” she said quietly. “God, I thought he was the most amazing man, and then he started drinking after his mother died, and he began accusing me of cheating on him, and when he began hitting me, I should’ve left. I should’ve gotten the hell out and ran.”

 

“I was so blinded by what I thought was love, I just let him. For a while, I thought I deserved it, somehow. But this morning, I packed my things - I was done. I was done waking up with bruises. I was done letting him control my actions. He came home early from work and saw them, and he tried to punch me. He dented the wall instead. I was fast. He chased me out - I couldn’t even get shoes,” she said, extending her now dirty feet.

 

Emma grabbed her backpack from a shelf, offering Belle her gym shoes. “I work out before almost every shift,” she said with a shrug as the woman slipped on her shoes.

 

“I just.. I just don’t know where to go tonight,” Belle said finally. “You don’t have an extra room, do you?”

 

And with that, Emma had a roommate. The rent was easily covered with their combined incomes, and after a few months, they moved to Seattle. Belle left her secretarial job, picking up a position as a part-time school librarian. Emma quit at the gas station, taking the night shift at the airport. They were each other’s best friends - something Emma didn’t have before Belle. Belle never pushed her for information about her past - it took a couple months for her to learn Emma had been thrown from foster care to foster care. When Emma took a sick day from work and stayed in bed all day, Belle had checked on her, accepting Emma’s painful confession about it being her baby’s birthday without any judgment. She just wrapped her arms around her friend and let her weep.

 

After Gordon, Belle took a break from dating. She focused on her new job, and a year later, when a nice girl named Ruby joined their movie night, Emma didn’t say anything. She just raised her eyebrows when Ruby kissed Belle goodbye, and Belle had shrugged.

 

“Something new,” she said quietly, a grin on her face as she walked over to the fridge.

 

“I’m not judging,” Emma said, raising her arms defensively. Belle could date anyone, as long as they weren’t super annoying and invasive.

 

“Didn’t think you would,” Belle said, “It’s just… she’s just fun.”

 

Emma didn’t blame Belle at all for wanting something fun, but she couldn’t help but feel protective of her friend. Ruby’s visits and Belle’s overnight trips away lasted for about six months, but Ruby eventually moved to Los Angeles in the hopes of becoming an actress. Belle seemed downfallen, but soon after, she revealed she was harboring a crush.

 

“The principal?!” Emma had asked, reaching for another carton from the take-out they were sharing.

 

“He’s just so funny. But he doesn’t mean to be, you know? Like he tries to be scary, but I see right through it,” Belle said, shaking her head admiringly.

 

Around this time, Emma had begun reporting to Belle on Killian. It began the years of their mutual pining for different men. It wasn’t like they both remained nuns in the process - Emma had brief stints of dating various other airport personnel named August and Walter, respectively. Belle had short-lived affairs with a soccer player named Will, and a pretty nurse named Mulan. It took her two school years of dedicated pining, but Belle got Mr. Gold to take her home after a faculty Christmas party. The were still in the moon-y eyed stage, and Emma fake-gagged at their cuteness.

 

Now, Belle was listening as Emma revealed Killian had asked her out, and she jumped out of her chair, giving Emma a hug. “Emma! I knew it would happen! We’ve got two days to make you dateable,” Belle said, clapping her hands together happily.

 

“I’m dateable,” Emma said, wrinkling her nose. “Aren’t I?”

 

“Of course you are, honey, but I could just… I could loan you some makeup,” Belle said, eyeing Emma’s face critically. “And you could… wear something other than gym clothes. Not that you don’t rock gym clothes.”

 

“Go to work, Belle,” Emma said finally, grabbing a muffin out of their bread basket.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Belle replied, “See you tonight.”

 

“Psh, as if I’ll see you. Have fun on your Valentine’s daaaate,” Emma replied, rolling her eyes.

 

“Oh, I intend to,” Belle said with a smirk, grabbing her purse and smiling again at Emma like a proud mother. Emma shook her head, seeing her friend out the door. Afterwards, she went to her room and collapsed onto her bed. It was time for a nap.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I let this go untouched for so long - it shouldn't be that long again for the next chapter. I changed the name from "Red Eye" to "Red Eye Flight" because I saw someone else was using Red Eye. Let me know what you think of this! :)

      She’d looked so damn happy when he asked her. It had only taken him bloody ages to finally get the courage. The Kwik Eats girl - Emma. He secretly looked forward to seeing her when he was at the airport during her shift. Killian didn’t know Emma’s last name, but it had to be something eloquent. She was beautiful, despite the glaringly obnoxious uniform they made her wear. She always handed him his order with a quiet smile that commanded respect. Emma radiated a sunshine-like essence that he wanted to bottle up and capture. Killian actually loathed the breakfast sandwiches, but it was a small price to pay for the delightful wit of the counter girl.

            He wondered why someone as lovely as she seemed to be worked at an airport. It didn’t matter. She hadn’t said no when he asked her out. Then again, she hadn’t said yes, but he made a reservation regardless.

            Killian returned from Indianapolis early in the morning, making his way to her side of the airport. He was trying not to seem to eager, to maintain his cool. Sure enough, he could see her back and her blonde ponytail as she gave something to a customer. He approached slowly, noticing it seemed she’d put on makeup. Emma was normally fresh-faced, but she was stunning either way.

            “Emma,” he said, a bit too loud. She whirled around, her usual neutral look replaced with a beam, then she regained her cool, steady expression. “Killian,” she said smoothly, “Hi. Welcome back to the Seattle-Tacoma airport.”

            “Thank you,” he said. “I do hope you haven’t forgotten my offer.”

            Emma shrugged coyly. She was playing him, making him spell it out again, and he couldn’t blame her.

            “I have made reservations tonight for two at a restaurant I am fond of. If you would like to be my date, you could put your number into my phone,” he said, the words sounding nearly-scripted - it wasn’t like he’d rehearsed this in his mind a million times -, producing the latest iPhone for her to type her number out. “Add your name and address, and I can pick you up at 7pm?”

            “Twelve hours from now,” Emma said, taking the phone and typing in her number. “I’ll be ready,” she said, a blush rising on her face.

            “I look forward to it,” he said, “I have to go to work now, but, I’ll see you later.” Killian took the device from her outreached hand, glancing down. _Swan._ Her last name was Swan. _“Swan’s mate for life,”_ he heard his third grade teacher say in the back of his memory.

            “See you, Killian,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling.

            He had just told her a lie. He was actually going to the hospital, to visit his comatose brother, but she didn’t need to be dragged into his family business yet. He wasn’t sure what had inspired him to finally ask her out - maybe the proposal he had witnessed on the airplane on Valentine’s Day had done him in. Killian hadn’t dated anyone since he realized Millie was cheating on him, and that was at least three years ago.

            There had been one night things, but nothing that mattered. Nothing real. After the accident, he threw himself into working - his friends called him a workaholic, even, but working paid the hospital bills. It also afforded him a stylish, little apartment meant for whoo-ing females. There hadn’t been many women in the apartment in a while, unless his beta fish counted. Maybe he and Emma would get back to his place, if things went well. Maybe not on the first date, he thought. Maybe the second - if and when.

            Killian didn’t need to stop at baggage - he’d learned how to do overnights in one backpack and a briefcase. Heading out of the airport, he located his car easily, cranking up the classical channel. He rolled his head and shoulders, trying to shake off the weariness he was beginning to feel. Having the airport as a second home was in no way glamorous. At the least the job was well paying - after interning at an event planning place in London, he’d received the call to be a higher-up at an American business. The American people swooned over his dashing accent, and thus paid big money to have him fly to their events (weddings, banquets, galas, it all blurred together) and ensure everything was pristine. Killian mostly over-saw people, but he was committed to being on location as much as possible. His customers had specific visions, and he’d made sure they’d have them.

            He was half hoping to become a cruise director someday. For reasons unknown, he’d always felt the call of the ocean. Seattle was his home-base, because it was rainy and reminded him of London. His parents. But when Killian imagined his future, the ocean was never too far out of view. All he needed was an answer to the question of his brother, and perhaps a lovely woman to share it with.

            There were so many thoughts swirling around in his head, the trip to the hospital seemed to pass in moments. The entrance was familiar, as was the sterile smell of the hospital. He loathed hospitals, for all the time he found himself sitting in one.

            Killian smiled as he signed in, the pretty nurse bashfully looking away. He put the scrubs over his shoes like the hospital required, and a doctor met him at the front desk shortly.

            “How was your trip to Indiana, Mr. Jones?” asked Dr. Victor Whale, his voice friendly but tired. Killian knew the man thought he visited too much - but really, how could someone not visit their brother?

            “Fine,” Killian replied shortly. “How is he?”

            They walked towards the room that had housed Liam Jones for four years, his bones growing weaker as the machines pumped life into him. “Same as ever,” Dr. Whale said, sighing. “Killian, we should talk about-”

            “Are my checks still going through? Am I still paying you for this?” Killian replied back, his hands waving around the pristine hospital room, his words harsher than he meant to sound. He knew exactly where Whale wanted the conversation to go - to pulling the plug on his big brother.

            Whale looked a bit hurt, replying, “Well, yes, Killian, but with your brother’s best interests at stake-”

            “I believe I’m the one who knows what’s best,” Killian said, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. These damned doctors gave him headaches.

            “Killian,” the doctor said, gentler than before, “Do you have anyone else to talk to about this? _Any_ family? Or a psychiatrist, even?”

            “No,” Killian said, entering the room, his eyes sweeping in his brother. He took Liam’s cold hand in his own, rubbing his brother’s hand with his thumb. “Hey, Liam,” he said. “It’s me, again. How are you today?”

            Killian sat down and Dr. Whale shook his head. When Killian was with Liam, he completely blocked out the outside world. “We do need to talk soon, Killian,” Whale said, just before shutting the door as he saw himself out.

            Killian told his brother all about his trip to Indiana, achieving the perfect quinceanera for the daughter of a supermodel and a fashion designer. Liam didn’t respond, of course, but Killian believed his brother could hear him. Spotting the time and the changing sun, he made his way out of the hospital, waving to the nurse who had checked him in. He purchased lunch, checking up on work e-mails and sending congratulatory messages for the successful event the previous night to his team. Some of the interns seemed perpetually flustered, and he tried to make them more confident about their career choices. After lunch he did a casual grocery stop, but there weren’t many things a bachelor who spent more of his nights away needed. Eggs, bread, milk, some fruit. The basics.

            At his apartment, he debated shaving, but felt like the scruff was suitable for his first date with Emma. She was elusive, but something in her made him want to know what had made her so obviously guarded. Not that she should reveal all to the man she saw a few times a week as a customer, but still.

            He changed from one pair of work pants to another, throwing a sport coat over his button-down shirt. Should he text her to dress up? It was a fancy restaurant, but he didn’t want to insult her in any way by insinuating that she didn’t know what to wear. Instead of sending a text about formal wear, he sent her a link to the restaurant’s menu.

            _“In case you were curious,”_ he said. A few minutes later, she’d replied. _“Thanks. See you tonight.”_

            And that was that.


End file.
